All Systems Go

The last remnants of measurable contact with the home planet are fading, I'll grant that. The last qualified arrangements with labels in booktitle English have permanently switched to default, ordinary. If I ever belonged to some sprawling empire, or postmodern tribe (pick your metaphor) my membership card is becoming gradually invalid. There are still vibrant communications, still sounding boards that I test my illusions on, still drinking partners that I couldn't be more excited to talk to. But things are drastically different now. I'm in the interzone between that glorious configuration of time and space ; poised and ready to paint the world I now live in bright orange. Filling out the preliminary paperwork to leave a streak across the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps my number has finally been called.

We made a decision that was for the best, her and I. And I think whatever temporary dream we posted was merely our attempt to return some normalcy and familiarity to the daunting and fluctuating present. We've thought better of it; practically grown-ups now with teeth-gritting resolve to do what is in our best interest. Willing to cast our seeds into the wind, yes, but only once we're confident that they will take root. The best of luck to us both.

I have a new influence in my life; and its difficult to believe it has sought me out so diligently. They provide perspective for this "thing" that I'm doing. A role model for levity, a critical ear, a notice that this life is in fact wide open. I expect nothing out of it and thus am pleasantly surprised. I plan nothing for it, and thus get everything I want plus more. If I've learned anything its the value of steering impulse; that is the beauty inherent in spontaneity and the cold thrill of gambling on hints and flutters. Oh life.

I haven't met my summer challenge, purposely defined as overly aggressive and mind-numbing. Not that I made no attempt, or am even truly giving in now; but I learned a great deal in this summer. Made changes organically within myself at a rate I never thought possible. Learned that I will never write the GAN until I accept the dual traumas that I can and that I'm not yet ready. Perhaps this is a time to experiment and learn, what I might call research and development, rather than a time to shift into full production. I have so much to learn about the Word, and its coming to me in an incremental ecstasy. Besides, what one writes is made up of the chaos and beauty of their life; elements stifled by long nights in the basement. Although there have been a great deal of those as well.

That being said, I still am working fairly diligently on my novel. Its making more sense now, and less sense. Its being crowded out by other inspirations, by poetry, by the unbelievably humbling novels that I am reading. And admittedly by the successes I am having professionally and socially. But its never far from my mind, and what's more I'm finally beginning to feel qualified to speak on these themes.

Defunct priority set
for a priori fretting 'bout death
Disregard dishonor like poker
players laying bets.
Accept a far-flung concept of courage,
though the internal workings
proved inept at best.
These are the presets for
descent living in the US.
These are the meaningless jabs
at getting ahead.
These are the demons I think of
lying in bed.